


While You Were Sleeping

by Wayoming



Series: As The Dust Settles: Drabbles and Shorts [4]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: A little schmoopy, For no reason, Gen, M/M, Sherlock - Freeform, Why are you watching John sleep?, sleeping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-27
Updated: 2013-03-27
Packaged: 2017-12-06 16:50:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/737925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wayoming/pseuds/Wayoming
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock has a few things to say about Gene Kelly. John, however, can't listen to them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	While You Were Sleeping

They had been watching some tedious film, the flickering of the television in the dark room hypnotic as that sound of the rain lashing against the window. John had begun to sag, his eyes drooping, body softening into the sofa. They had reached the end of the film before Sherlock realised that John was asleep. He turned to John to address him in a scathing tone that the apparent “classic” nature of Gene Kelly films was questionable at best, and was surprised to find John snoring lightly.

Sherlock had put it down to the early start John had had (woken by Sherlock shouting vehemently at their postman) and his surprise was short-lived.

Sherlock thought hard about what to do. If he left John where he was he would wake with a stiff back and a bad temper. Sherlock knew enough about self-preservation to try and remedy this. He tipped John on his side, and procured the blanket from the back of the sofa as he lifted John’s legs up, careful not to tickle the sock-clad feet, and then cradled John’s head as he gently placed it on a cushion. He kept his hand there a moment longer, scanning John's sleeping face.

“John?” he murmured, a vague attempt at waking him. He glanced at his watch, and noticed two things. It was barely eight o'clock, and he still had a hand on John's face.

Sherlock withdrew his hand tentatively, carefully laying the blanket over his friend. He looked down at John's sleeping body, the fatigue evident on his face, and couldn't help but sympathise for once. It wasn't often that Sherlock gave in, let go, fully rested. But it was at times like these, when he saw how exhausted John was, that he started wanting to slow down. 

Not to rest however. No, never to rest. 

Sherlock ran a cautious hand through John's short hair. He wanted to slow down time and keep the man before him like this forever. Always warm, always safe, always John.


End file.
